


mouse trap

by t0mmysliver



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Caring Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Major Original Character(s), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Nonbinary Character, Older Siblings Wilber Soot and Technoblade, Original Character(s), POV Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson Adopts Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Worried Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), my persona jules is in this lol and i self project but philza comfort cc/char, philza minecraft wants to be a good dad, ranboo teleports and chirps, second chapter already written but i won't post it yet lol, technoblade has an axe, tommy blames everything on phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:42:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29533566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0mmysliver/pseuds/t0mmysliver
Summary: in all honesty, once tubbo became president of l'manberg, phil considered himself a father in retirement, only to receive greeting cards from his children and the occasional cry for help from mostly tommy, maybe the occasional visitthat idea was completely shattered when Ranboo popped up at his door.ORphilza doesn't adopt kids, they just kinda stumble into his house. at the peak of his 'retirement', he finds himself adopting two more kids who need someone to lean on
Relationships: Phil Watson Original Character, Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. the mice

**Author's Note:**

> HI just a note!! this has an original character in this! their name is jules, they use they/them pronouns, i'll probably change my pfp to them so you can get a vibe. they experience visual delusions so trigger warning for that (it's from phil's perspective tho so it's more just them yelling abt stuff they think is happening). this is kinda self indulgent bc i have brainrot for mr philza minecraft both as a cc and as a dsmp char and i want a father figure like him so he adopts my mentally ill persona heheheheh but this is also phil having a fam dynamic with ranboo and techno so yayyy it's kinda mostly wholesome aside from the whole.. delusion bit? i rly hope you like it!!

Phil had thought his parenting days were behind him. Life seemed desperate to prove him wrong. 

Whether Techno liked it or not, Phil was his dad, or at least had taken the role of nurturing him into the world, alongside a similarly aged Wilbur, and as much as they were different to one another, there were little pieces of Phil that settled in them like shards of glass. They'd taken feathers from his wings and tried to fly - it just happened that Wilbur was Icarus. 

Despite their differences, and one's shortcomings, Phil often noted that the cacophony of Techno's pig grunts and hehs and Wilbur's chants and guitar strums could sometimes work together. Some notes in the long were on the right chord. But, as with most of the server they called home, it was usually just a racket. 

Then there was the little rat gremlin - or a raccoon, he was sometimes called - of Tommy, and he was his own struggle. Who knew that one child could make so much noise? Or that Hide and Seek could lead to so many tears and cold, runny noses? What Phil had not learnt while raising Techno and Wilbur was very heavily thrust upon him during Tommy's childhood, as if the world was punishing him for not finding out sooner. 

At least Mr-Box-Boy Tubbo was a little easier. He'd grown up patient and meek, the Jekyll to Tommy's Hyde. Not quite an angel child - he had his own moments of bastardery, but that just seemed to run in the family and it was a much rarer case. Phil couldn't have asked for a better youngest son, but he couldn't ask for any different children. 

With every trouble they gave him, their gratitude and love continued to outweigh it. And, really, the trouble just made the journey more fun. 

In all honesty, once Tubbo became President of L'Manberg, Phil considered himself a father in retirement, only to receive greeting cards from his children and the occasional cry for help from mostly Tommy, maybe the occasional visit. 

That idea was completely shattered when Ranboo popped up at his door. 

Phil had too much experience in… how to put it? Mental deficiency seemed too brutal, but mental health issues seemed too light. Psychological distress? Whatever he should call it, most of his kids seemed to suffer from it, or at least stumbled across it within their lives. 

Obviously there was Techno, the voices rarely kind to him but usually manageable. Wilbur's descent into madness was hardly a shock, if he was to be honest - and well, it wasn't like he was going to lie to himself, so he would be - it was like mold on bread, at first only in speckles but soon growing and overtaking until the bread is swarmed. 

He's in part to blame for Tommy and Tubbo, not being around to shield them from the shrapnel of the war and trauma, but most of him wants to deny it. 

And now there was another one at his door, red and green eyes darting around nervously, his tired shoes shuffling, anxious Enderman chirps behind the hands at his mouth. Another mouth to feed, another mess to fix. No, that wasn’t the right way to put it, but it’s technically true. There was no fixing any of his kids, but he’d help them heal. Well, he was  _ supposed _ to help them heal. 

“Ranboo,” Phil mumbled, then raised his voice just over the initial mumble. “C-Come in.” 

Ranboo chirped - he didn’t seem to have any control of that - and with a noise similar to Phil’s wings when taking flight, he appeared on top of a chest, crown points lodged into the ceiling. Phil snorted a bit as Ranboo gently reached up and tugged it free before walking over to the middle of the room. He obviously didn’t have control of much of his powers. “Hey-hey Phil.”

“What brings you here, mm?” He’s already across the room, digging out pre-cooked food to give to the boy, deciding to offer him some baked potatoes and mutton. He had plenty of those, and it was a small meal that Ranboo wouldn't feel too guilty about eating. 

"I.. I don't really know. I don't remember." He's barely touched the food, arms crossed with one hand rubbing his shoulder. "I think I just… wanted to see you. Meet you, properly, I guess."

Phil studied the boy as he led him to the sofa. Mild scratches on his hands and torn clothes with light grazes on the skin indicated zombies and skeletons, nothing too serious. A pit settled in his stomach when he came to the face, noting the bruise resting under his chin, spreading to his cheeks and stretching up to a black eye. Not exactly black, more blueish in hue but still noticeable. "Where'd you get this, bud?"

Ranboo flinched as Phil attempted to cradle his face. "I went to a village when I was coming to you, got into a fight with the golem." His eyes lit up with glee, and Phil guessed he'd remembered why he was here. "And-and I got these for you!" With a chirp and more controlled appearance by his discarded backpack, he began to rustle through his belongings, brows constantly fighting whether to be furrowed or not as he winced. No surprise, with his face's state. 

When he finally turned back to Phil, he held two poppies in his hands. "I got them when I defeated the golem! And-and I thought you'd like them. I got you flower pots too, unless you plant them outside, but you might want to put them by a window or something! I mean, if flowers aren't your thing, I can find- uhm, I can give them to someone else, or plant them somewhere nice, but I just thought that Phil- you, I mean, would like it. If I got you flowers that is."

As Ranboo scrambled for the right words, Phil smiled, remembering when Tubbo would bring him flower crowns of yellow and blue and rainbows, sit them on his head, on his brothers' too. Sometimes, when he was too tired, he'd just bring flowers, and if they didn't die before Phil found them stuffed in his bedsheets or crushed into the carpet, they'd live their last hours (maybe days if he was quick) in a pot by the window. If Tubbo asked, and he rarely did, Phil would replace the dead flowers with new ones in their place. 

"Thank you Ranboo," he said after musing about the past. He had to stop doing that. The boy seemed ready to accept rejection, lowering his hands. "I think they'd look nice in the window." These ones would barely live the night, and though Ranboo was definitely old enough to realise they’d been replaced, he’d appreciate the gesture. Taking the flowers and setting them in the clay pots by the window facing the front side of the house. "There! Looks lovely, eh?" 

Ranboo's face was overtaken with a beam, marvelling at the flowers already brightening up with the water. "They do…" He turned to Phil. “Thank you, for… for helping me. And-and taking me, I guess.” He bit into the food again, it’s probably slightly cold but Ranboo didn’t seem to notice as he kept chewing. 

“No problem mate,” Phil assured, patting his shoulder. “You’re always welcome here, yknow that yeah? You don’t have to have a reason, it'd be good to see you more often." 

Ranboo hesitated for a time, turning his gaze to the food given to him, all finished aside from the odd bite or two. "Your… your company… you're like a father to me, I guess - I mean, I don't think I really had one, but you just- you're so nice to me, for no reason-" 

Phil's heart had begun to swell but he quickly interrupted: “It’s not no reason, you’re good- you’re nice, and-and I guess, you’re like…” His pause isn’t noticeable, Ranboo certainly wouldn’t see it, but it’s a comfort to himself that he at least hesitated, for the sake of his own sons. “You’re like a son to me.”

There’s a buzzing chirp from Ranboo, his face grows a slight flush as the corners of his mouth turn upwards. Phil’s feathers ruffled, his own chirp probably, and the smile growing on his face was Ranboo’s too. Neither spoke, because they’d said all the words necessary. Ranboo was his boy now and, even if it was buried in his subconscious, it meant that Phil had another chance, a better chance to help  _ someone _ . A new son to support, without the struggle of raising like he’d had with his former boys, just a son who was so needing of him, his support and love and embrace. Ranboo wanted him, Phil wanted him, and they had each other. 

A fourth son. That was all Phil needed, and at last it had arrived. 

But life was desperate for him to have five children. 

* * *

This was the closest thing to a family roadtrip Phil would ever have - of course something would go… wrong wasn’t the right way to put it, ironically enough. It went strange, but that wouldn’t be new, everything in this land was strange. 

They’d wandered out farther than they had before, fighting their way through a dark oak forest for God knows what reason, so far in fact that the Human GPS that was Technoblade (although, more often than not he was more like a satnav than anything) didn’t seem to recognise anything. They’d laid a route of torches and cobble down when it had started to seem like unfamiliar territory, but the leaves that towered over them let the creatures of the night run loose in the early afternoon of a summer’s day. Some ran at the sight of Ranboo, probably because he was half one of them, half against them, and that could send any mobs’ instincts astray, but a fair too many of them were arrogant enough to try. Phil hated tall trees.

Through the bushes and rubble of creeper pits that Phil could hardly stand to look at was a clearing that, in the near horizon, bordered the start of a desert. Something sat on the hill on top of it, Techno declaring that, even from its mangled silhouette, he knew it was a landmark somewhere outside Dream’s land. They could circle through easily, but that relief turned to confusion as they continued to scan the land; there was a house. 

It was built out of acacia - logs and planks - and glass, allowing a clear view into the inside - barrels and chests line the back, it’s a quaint, cramped little house, and inside is someone roughly Ranboo’s age who flicks the pages, their back to the side the trio are spying from. They watched as they shifted to a barrel, taking out and putting back tools. No Netherite, not even diamond, just an iron sword and pickaxe and a stone shovel, a wooden axe that looked ready to break being held for a slightly longer time and a stone hoe that’s fresh being selected for the job.

“Not a threat,” Techno grunted as they started to rummage through a barrel, plucking out seeds and carrots, no potatoes to see. Even though they all nodded along with him, they still ducked behind trees when the stranger emerged from their house. Skinny but too short to be lanky, perhaps slightly shorter than Phil, with dark brown hair that curled to the front in a slight fringe. The rest they couldn’t really see, too far away to make out eyes or clothing details, just vague colours of grey and green accents, perhaps a hood not pulled up. They should go, Phil knew that even before Techno suggested it, but the silence that followed seemed to confirm that while they should go, they probably wouldn’t. 

Ranboo teleporting over to the campfire of the stranger just sort of sealed the deal. 

Phil watched as the person stopped to stare at Ranboo, but didn’t seem to jump or scream. The two began to talk, though they kept their distance. They took out their hoe again but didn’t move, then walking over to the farm and starting to plant their crops, Ranboo staying by the campfire. When the farming is done, they seem more surprised that there’s still someone there.

Phil admired the farm - made out of birch and difficult to climb in and out even with the stairs and gate, but still small, maybe the same size as the house - and then the stone shelter the campfire was underneath, and the furnace and crafting table from the looks of it. There’s a cat tree, Ranboo wandering over to it past the back seating area brings Phil’s attention to it, but no cats. The stranger followed him, holding out a spare carrot.

The moment he took it, everything spiralled downhill from there. The broken wooden axe was flung at Ranboo - Techno and Phil immediately started running, but it didn’t even graze his shoulder and lodged itself into a tree branch.

“Jules, Jules!” Ranboo yelled out, teleporting frantically, only furthering the anxiety the stranger - well ‘Jules’ - was clearly facing. They turned to see what was barrelling toward them, their terrified eyes that bore the colour of fire widening as Techno charged into them. 

Rather than asking who these strangers were, rather than beg to be let go, they instead cried out: “What are you?! You’re- you’re not one of them, but you have to b-”

Techno held them to the ground, struggling through their thrashing. Ranboo was yelling at him to let them go, tugging at his armour, but he was barely heard as Techno snarled: “Who’s them-”

Jules interrupted, with a cry of: “The Visitors!” Managing to scramble out eventually with their thrashing, they didn’t get far as Techno yanked their ankle back but, to their credit, managed to pull themselves free and crawl backwards, staring up at Techno with terror as he menacingly walked after them. “They-they say hi- then they leave, they don’t eat but-but you’re here, there’s- there’s three of you, there’s never more than two, you ate, you took food, how do you know my name?!”

Ranboo tried to tug Techno back, insisting to them, though his voice faltered as he scrambled to remember. “You said- at the campf- you said it to me, I swear, you told me-”

“What are these  _ Visitors _ ?” Technoblade sneered, grappling at the collar of Jules’ hoodie, but they swerved just enough that he only grabbed the green drawstring, pulling it out entirely before throwing it to the ground. “Who are they?!”

“I don’t- I don’t know!”

“How often do you see people?” Phil tried to keep his voice calm, but that meant it was too quiet for Jules to pick up on. He had no choice; he stormed over, gently pushed Techno to the side and stopped in front of Jules. With Ranboo, he’d seen flecks of Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, God even Techno. There was nothing with this one; there were the emotions of terror and confusion and loneliness, the ones Phil had come to see in the eyes of his children, but it wasn’t the  _ same _ as his children’s. Different lives, different loneliness. “Jules,” he said firmly, perhaps too loud for them, but that wasn't the point. “How often do people come here?”

For a second, it looked like they were ready to respond to him, counting in their head. But evidently, with Techno not quite prepared to make a grab at them, they felt they had a chance - and they took it. Jules leapt to their feet and shoved through the trio, running to their axe still stuck in the branch, and held it out. Clearly they hadn’t taken note of the much…  _ much  _ stronger weaponry the three had at their disposal, but that didn’t seem to phase them. Did they even know what it was? A single hit from Techno’s axe was the straw that broke the camel’s - well, the wooden axe’s - back and it uselessly split into pieces. Jules tried to run again, first darting up a tree but falling through the leaves and getting thrown about like a ragdoll between zombies and skeletons who nary paid a mind to the three advancing on their target. Ranboo frantically teleported through the forest to keep up with them, not to catch them but to slay the mobs that seemed to come from everywhere. 

Jules knew the woods better than they did, avoiding the torches and cobble laid down and turned away from it. In his rush to keep eyes on the strange child, Phil wasn’t placing down torches anymore. If they lose Jules, they lose all knowledge of this area, and with every tree looking identical from the bark to the leaves’ drooping, it’d take them far too long to get back safely. Plus, this was all so intriguing and worrying. He wanted answers.

After a good half an hour run, Jules had taken a fair brunt of the run - they were barely standing, stumbling madly and reaching around for guidelines out, no longer able to run, while the others were still chasing after them. They hesitated, seeing the edge of the forest, but getting closer to it showed that they’d simply looped. They were on the other side of Jules’ land, now by the cat tree Ranboo had admired earlier, the spruce structure poking through the trees. 

Jules turned back, their eyes barely ajar and using slow blinks, but then they stopped, as if struck by lightning, turned back to their home and then let out an ungodly scream of horror, before cowering down at the edge of the clearing, shrieking and sobbing, gasping for air as if everything were-

“It’s gone it’s on fire you- you- horses- they’re- you- FIRE!” They wailed, the rest of their stammers incoherent ramblings as they clawed at the ground, desperately sobbing, sometimes jerking as if hit by a whip and screaming. Techno, confused but attracted toward the aspect of arson, bound over the curled up body and ran toward the clearing, while Phil and Ranboo simply rushed up towards Jules to make more sense of… of them, really. 

Looking out toward the house, there were horses, a pair of them in fact, but that was the only thing Jules had correctly identified. The campfire was smoking, but it was low on firewood and it barely touched the chimney of the stone shelter, and Techno looked disappointed at first and then confused about what Jules had said. 

“Mate, nothing’s on fire-”

“It is,” they wailed loudly, tugging at their hair and grey hood, green trousers messy with dirt and blood and water from the chase, their knees submerged in mud. “It is- you did this- NO!” They reached out for Ranboo, pulling him close, then staring at their hands before going back to their screaming of terror. They stood, barely able to (if Phil hadn’t stabled them, they probably would have lost whatever hearts they had left from the fall back) and tried to run to their house, recoiling at an invisible circle of fire, reaching out and waving their hand while sobbing. 

Phil began to tread toward the house, past where they’d jumped back, right outside the door. “No, listen, your house, Jules-”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!”

Techno, not only upset with being deceived but frustrated with the noise and circumstances, stormed over and grabbed Jules quite fiercely by the face, only making them worse. “You TOLD US!”

“No-no it’s cause you’re- you’re Visitors-”

“WE DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE!” He growled, then looked to Phil, who watched Jules with concern, watching as they clawed at their face and eyes until he, even though he’d heard it was a bad idea to grab people during these sorts of things, grabbed their hands and held them together. “What do we do?”

“They’re gonna go mental on their own. Let’s take 'em back, until they’re…”

“Stable?”

“Better.”

Taming the horses and basically pulling Jules through the mud (the fact that it had started raining had not helped to convince them there was no fire burning down their house) to get them on the horse, which was another struggle in itself. At last, they were back following the cobble path lit with torches, Phil already making a note of the coordinates to collect the stuff they’d left behind. 

They only meant to find new farm animals. 

* * *

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Techno grumbled as he jumped off his horse into the snow with a firm crunch, tugging Jules off his horse because they were too enamoured with the snow to remember to move. Even when off the horse, they stood in silence, and Ranboo stood by them so Phil and Techno could put the horses away without too much hassle. 

“Probably too low to move,” Phil surmised, glancing over as Ranboo idly kicked his foot through the snow. “I’ll get them some stew, get them warm.” Techno snorted, but didn’t say anything, giving the horses some food and pets before storming inside his house. As Phil watched Jules and Ranboo, the latter now rambling softly in the silence the other gave him, a small smile wiggled its way onto his face. There was the Tommy he recognised inside Ranboo. If only Jules fit into someone’s role. 

Eventually tugging the pair indoors and getting Jules, who had started to shiver from the cold (it was likely they’d never been in a snowy biome before, much more used to the warmth from the neighbouring desert) but hadn’t moved in favour of staring into the distance as if not really there, some food and a blanket in a seat after wrapping their hands in mittens to protect from the cold. He’d always considered himself inept to be a father, but as his hands instinctively tucked Jules in, doubt crossed his mind about that. He watched them barely take notice of the world, their movements slow and tired - shifting to lay back in the chair, eating the stew they didn’t seem to really notice, staring out the window at the crisp white of the world around them. Definitely wasn’t used to this sort of land, the skinny trees, the cold, the snowflakes sticking to the window. 

It didn’t take a genius to see Jules wasn’t all there right now. 

As Ranboo brought in the last of the crops to the front door, he and Techno began to murmur, looking over to Jules, then Phil as if to invite him to the conversation. After taking a secondary glance at the skinny form slumped under the blanket, he decided that they were too spaced out to care, so he joined the conversation.

“What are you gonna do with the kid, Mr Philza?” Techno’s voice was a tad mocking, but his smirk proved it was playful. 

“Can’t leave ‘em,” was all he said, shrugging slightly. 

“They think their house is gone, I don’t think we can take them back there, it might trigger another…” He mimed throwing an axe, which Phil couldn’t help but snort at. 

“We can get their stuff, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring ‘em back either,” he agreed. “Sorry Techno,” he added, to which Techno grumbled something about becoming a daycare, but otherwise didn’t contest. 

The conversation continued onto theories of whoever this was supposed to be, why they were so far away, what was happening to them - and then it was interrupted by a throaty scream and clattering. Phil turned to see as the stew bowl tips over the blanket and empties its contents before falling to the floor and Jules panickedly trying to pull at their hair through the mittens, only brushing it fervently. Ranboo was already there, the purple particles not calming the other at all, trying to break through to Jules as he mopped up the stew, and Techno was shaking them in an instant to try snap them out of it (Phil wanted to play devil’s advocate - Techno struggled with his own brain, how was he going to know how to help someone else’s, but his gentle treatment of Ranboo proved otherwise - but knew this was his fault).

Phil sat beside Jules, pulling a chair beside them, but that didn’t seem to help. He waved Techno off their shoulders and pulled the blanket off their frame to let them out, thinking the issue might have been that they were trapped- what a mistake that was, Phil realised as they jumped up and darted out the door. 

“So much for quiet,” Phil heard Techno grumble before following the other two out the door and running to the forest. “Deja vu…”

This chase, at least, lasted far shorter than the chase in the dark oak one: there were definitely less mobs, the cool sun poking through the leaves being enough to ward them off, and with Techno and himself grabbing the horses again and with Ranboo on foot, as well as them knowing the forest this time  _ and _ Jules still not being at full health. 

Phil lost sight of Jules and Ranboo, following the sounds of running and Techno’s horse, sometimes seeing one of them from the tree branches - at one point, as his horse kept to a steady gallop through the snow, he watched as Jules tumbled into the snow but immediately bounded back up. The branches separating them had been too thick and by the time the horse had slowed down anyway, they were gone. He saw them again as they darted throughout a clearing, slowing to a trot as he saw Techno in the corner of his eye coming up behind them so they didn’t collide, and barely held back a snort as Jules ran headfirst into a tree and flopped back into the snow, this time staying down. 

Their breaths were heavy from exhaustion, they didn’t even scream as the horse reared its legs to avoid trampling over them and didn’t struggle as Techno lifted them over his shoulder. Their skin had a bluish tint to it that didn’t quite fade even when they were sat against a bed’s headboard with a soft, weighted blanket that’s not quite tucked in but still warming them. Phil watched in silence as their eyes darted around and incoherent mumbles fell out their mouth, until their breathing calmed, their fingers sluggishly playing with the blanket threads and their words became clearer: “My… my home.”

“Your house- your house’s fine, we’re not too far away.” Jules didn’t seem to believe that, and they were half right too. ‘Not too far away’ for Phil and Techno was definitely not the same for them as they didn’t appear to have the luxury of potions or horses or being strong enough to fight through all the mobs. 

“Nothing’s gon- nothing’s happened to it. Uh, Ranboo says your name is Jules, that right?” Of course, Phil already knew the answer, but they didn’t deny it. “‘s a good name, y'know. You choose it?” They stayed silent, but nodded once. “Very good name, yeah- yeah. I have-” He hesitated. Was Tommy really his anymore? “...I have a boy, bit younger, maybe the same age. Taller though, bloody hell he’s tall. His name’s Tommy. Good name, mm?” Jules looked away briefly, maybe looking at a photo frame though they didn’t seem to really see it. “Guess it’s not your taste.” He realised that he was still a nameless stranger to Jules despite having been able to learn their life. “Oh God- my name, right, sorry, my name. I’m Phil. Nothing fancy, I know.”

Jules looked him up and down, perhaps judging the threat, studying Phil, before speaking. He realised that this was the first time he’d heard them speak without panic in their voice. “...I’m Jules.”

Phil smiled, hearing the door open behind him and seeing two shadows fall over the floor, but he resisted the urge to turn away from the child in the bed. “Hey Jules.”

After a small talk of what had happened, Ranboo properly wandered into the room, sitting in a second chair by the bed. Watching Jules eye him up then look with slight fear toward Techno, Phil decided to introduce his family. “Uh, you met Ranboo, didn’t you? At the campfire or sumthing?”

“Yeah, I already- they know my name, but uh I’m Ranboo.” He waved awkwardly to them, which they mirrored back to him. 

“Yeah, me and Techno - that’s him-” He gestured to the figure, who’s slumped lazily against the door frame and raised his hand with a brief waggle of his fingers as a greeting. Jules gawked at him, keeping their eyes on him with badly shrouded fear in their eyes, and tugged the blanket up a little bit. Techno chuckled a little at that, walking out of the room toward the kitchen. 

“He’s just gonna get us all something to eat, some more stew. He’s a good cook,” Phil assured, his hand hovering over the blanket to pat Jules’ leg underneath it, but his eyes darted to Jules as if to ask if that was all right. They didn’t move much at first, shifting their leg slightly, but then they nodded, so he patted their leg (much more gently then he used to pat Techno, Wilbur and Tommy) with a soft smile. “Well, we were in the area cause we were looking for animals and things, and then we found you.” There was an uncomfortable silence until Techno returned with bowls of stew, setting them on the nightstand. “And…”

Techno finished for him. “You were fucked up. We wanted to make sure you were all right.” Jules’ lips pursed, as if that’s not the first time they’ve heard it. Phil tilted his head as he recognised that, realising that they probably heard that from whoever the ‘Visitors’ were. 

“But-” 

“My house… it’s gone…”

“No, no. Your house, lovely little thing, it’s completely fine, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.”

“We can take you there-”

“No,” Jules didn’t scream, but their voice was loud and urgent. “No. I can’t go back. The fire- the fire will come back, and more people will be there and they’ll-” They began to hiccup. “They’ll-they’ll-”

Phil put his hands on the blanket gently, lowering his voice to a gentle soothe. “Hey, ‘hey, nothing’s gonna happen, we won’t let it.” He looked over at Techno, who realised what he was asking with his eyes pretty quickly, sighed but nodded. “How about you stay ‘ere for a while? Hell, maybe down the line we’ll build you a nice new house, like your old one, or a totally new house. How’s that sound?”

Jules didn’t seem to understand, or hadn’t fully processed it, so Ranboo leant forward and added, “We’d be happy to have you here. I- I think I understand your… your struggles.” He settled his hand on Jules’ blanket-covered wrist, their eyes lifting to meet his. “I struggle with- we struggle with- with stuff like this as well, and…” He smiled, turned to Phil. “Phil’s really good with helping.”

Phil’s heart sunk to his stomach. They really thought that? Techno rested his hand on his shoulder and gave a single nod, as if reading his mind. Maybe things had changed. 

Jules was silent for a long time, the other three electing to eat their stew as they sat in thought; halfway through the meal, Jules murmured, “I think… I’d like that.”

Phil’s face lit up with a smile. 


	2. the rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy has some choice words to say to philza, and philza knows he deserves them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER!!! wayyy shorter than the other one, i stretched it out but i liked some parts too much and it felt odd to leave it kinda dangling. tommy shows up and he has some words with philza minecraft, and philza knows he's bad dad. less techno, ranboo and jules but tbh there's not much they could do

Tommy had quite the sight when Phil opened the door on him. Ranboo and Jules were sat at a table, playing a board game while Techno ‘referee’d’ (which was basically just watching and nodding), the fire dim but still warm, the lights low as soft music notes drifted in the air. Phil, who had been expecting pretty much  _ anyone else _ , couldn’t stop his face from falling as the teenager glowered at him. 

“T… Tommy,” he mustered up. Tommy huffed a messy blonde lock out of his face then peered over his dad’s shoulder to stare at his replacements. 

Ranboo saw him first, eyes widening as he started to walk over, interrupted by his own teleporting to right behind Phil, his mouth ajar. Jules looked up as their board game buddy left them, but didn’t seem to react to the stranger on the porch. Phil now had the hindsight of knowing that ‘Visitors’ were just hallucinations of people, less common now that Jules actually had company to care for them (though Visitors like Betsy and Fang and El seemed to pay visits, especially when everyone was trying to sleep), and could now most likely correctly guess that Jules assumed Tommy was one of those. It wasn’t until Techno mumbled something to them that they began to back away into the Room that had been adopted as the ‘run here to not deal with things’, mostly used by Ranboo. Often called the Run Room, actually.

“Hey  _ Phil _ ,” Tommy spat, his tone full of spite as he shoved past the taller man to walk into the house. “Surprised to see me here?”

“Well- well yeah, you’re usually off… off doing your own thing-”

Tommy snorted, then looked around, blinking in surprise as Ranboo appeared at the door of the Run Room with purple particles floating about him. He stared at the pair inside that room, eyes glazed over with a white, tired anger. “That easy to replace us, huh?”

“Toms-” At the glare Tommy shot at him, he corrected himself, “Tommy, it’s not- I’ve not replaced you, or Wil-”

“No? Sure fuckin- sure fucking looks like it.” His voice stumbled over a stammer, his cheeks tinged pink as he tried to keep his tone spiteful. “You just- you gave up on me and Wilbur, yeah, we know that, you bloody- you fucking killed him and-and you have the audacity - the  _ audacity _ to just play bloody- what’s-it?” He stomped to the board game, Ranboo shutting the door more but keeping it open ever so slightly to peer out and make eye contact with Phil as he wandered in behind Tommy. “Bloody Mouse Trap!” 

“Tom-” The board game clattered to the ground as Tommy kicked its table to its side. Techno immediately darted over and unsheathed his axe to push his supposed brother back to the front door at axepoint while Phil ran toward the ajar door where Jules shrieked, only just able to see their crouched form in the corner of the room. He felt a small, sharp hand on his shoulder before he was tugged around by his youngest son. “Tommy! I-”

“You just- you think you get to fuck up raising us and then go back to playing Happy Families with-with Tech and Ranboo- Ranboo’s Tubbo’s friend- you’re replacing Tubbo with his best mate! And-and whoever that- who even  _ is _ that?! You just- you just find kids- find people to replace us with once yadunno what to do with the fuck-ups!”

“Tommy, that’s not true-”

“Yes it is! Yes it is! You just- you just- FUCK!” He kicked the wall of the Run Room and Phil’s wing stuck out to bat him away from the wall as Ranboo yelped alongside Jules’ second shriek. As Tommy stumbled back into a chair that toppled over, he laughed briefly before yelling again: “SEE! See, there it is! You stop me from kicking- kickin a wall for them- THAT’S MORE THAN YOU EVER DID FOR ME! You- you bastard, let me- lemme fight in a war, get fucking-fucking murderered-” Usually Phil would have snorted at ‘murderered’, but the grave look on Tommy’s face that seemed to resemble death itself made it impossible to do anything but frown. “-by fucking Withers, some green fuck, get fucking shoved around by ‘im- MY HOME IS GONE, PHILZA MINECRAFT!” 

“That’s not my fault, Tommy,” he tried to keep his voice low, his eyes darting from Techno to the door to get him to go there. He reluctantly sheathed his axe and leapt over the cluttered furniture to reach the other two. 

“IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU- YOU HELPED! THE HELL YOU MEAN NOT YOUR FAULT! IT’S ALL- it’s  _ all _ your fault, Phil! If you’d- if you gave a shit about me or Wil or Tubbo maybe-maybe-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Phil snarled, unconsciously gripping his own sword in his belt. For the first time, Tommy hesitated with fear, his eyes widening and hands raising up as if to surrender, but he tried to take control again, stand straighter, lower his hands, glare just as fiercely as before. Phil knew the kid was scared. He raised him, he knew all those little tells, he recognised fear. 

His fingers lifted off the hilt of his sword. He raised Tommy. He shouldn’t have seen fear. 

He carded his fingers through his hair and exhaled slowly, wings finally flattening down. “I think… I think you should go Tommy.”

Words bounced around in Tommy’s eyes, he could almost see them, but when the boy stood up properly and turned his gaze away to the mess he’d made of the board game, Phil knew he’d won. 

Won was the wrong way to put it. Neither won, not really. This wasn’t a game to win or lose, it was just a game to put off. He followed Tommy’s gaze and saw the green mouse piece crushed. He chuckled slightly. Funny, that. Symbolism. 

“If-” Tommy slowly began, turning toward the door but not fully away from Phil, as if he’d learnt not to turn his back on anyone (it wasn’t until waking up in the middle of the night that Phil realised how he’d learnt that lesson). “If you were a better dad, none of this would have happened.”

Alphabet soup, of denial and anger and blames and ignorance, settled in Phil’s mouth before he swallowed that down with pride. “I know.”

That seemed to bring Tommy some comfort. That small agreement. Both knew it’d never be enough. 

“Goodbye Philza.” And, before Phil could give his own farewells, the boy was gone in the blizzard. 

“Techno, take the other two on an errand. I’ll clean up here.”

“You sure?”

“Mm.”

None of them gave any argument, picking out tools and making their own leave, tiptoeing past the mess left in Tommy’s wake. 

Phil had chosen to ignore the mess he left behind, but that would be difficult when the mess knocked on the door in the middle of game night. He pulled the furniture upright, dusted off the frozen mud and snow, heated it until the water stains were gone, and set the pillows and blankets by the fireplace to warm up for his children when they got home. His three kids. 

As he cleaned up the board game, trying to remember how far they’d gotten and bending salvageable pieces back into shape, all he could think of was how it should have been  _ six _ . For the three kids he had succeeded with, he left a trampled mess of another three, three who clawed their way through the garden Phil had managed to grow with the rest. The plants were dying, the soil was drying, and as much as he shifted the blame onto Tommy, Wilbur and Tubbo, marking them as failures, it was he who failed them. How to water plants without rain?

The green mouse piece lay crumpled in his hands, Tommy’s painful cries echoing in his skull, the other’s tears blinding his eyes now as he stood and disposed of the green mouse piece in the fire. It flickered and hissed but the fire did its job. That’s what he’d done to them, wasn’t it? The same fire that warmed his new family’s hands was the same one that left his other three boys’ scarred and flaking. He should have wrapped them up in bandages, but all he did was throw wood on the fire. 

Phil had always known that caring for Ranboo and Jules wouldn’t correct what he’d done in the past, and that it wasn’t just because he didn’t know how to care for kids - Techno turned out okay. An anarchist, but fine. He’d just failed. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud return of half his family as they darted to the kitchen with what appeared to be animals, fresh from the hunt. Ranboo beamed wide as he saw the board game set back up and, despite himself, Phil smiled back. 

“Baby steps,” he mumbled to himself. Care for this part of his family, the family who still needed him, and then reach out to the ones who had distanced themselves. It had been Tommy who had walked out, anyway. 

Phil knew he was still wrong with that conclusion. But was there even a right?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please tell me what you think of just my writing in general and esp what you think abt jules! chapter two is already written and tommy gets a shining moment lol ;) i'll probably post that soon, like less than a week!


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